Beauty and the Bat
by Besarien
Summary: An overdose of overdone HGSS plot cliches in nutty little nutshell of a parody because my goal in life is to make you to spit your tea all over your keyboard.
1. Chapter 1

An overdose of overdone HGSS cliches in nutty little nutshell of a parody! 

Beauty and the Bat

"Lemondrop?"

"No thank you. Refined sugar is the tooth-killer."

Dumbledore missed his mouth and lost his lemondrop somewhere in his beard. Not finding it again in a timely manner, he took another out of the dish. "What could possibly bring you to my office if not the delicious lemondrops, Miss Granger? Shall we have a lovely tea party instead, perhaps?"

"No Headmaster, I want to ask you why I received this invitation to my own wedding by owl this morning."

"Ah! That would be because you are invited to your wedding of course! You are one of the two guests of honor, after all."

"It says here that I will be marrying Professor Snape this evening. Would that be correct?"

"That is my plan. It is a bit too late for the two of you to elope."

"May I ask why my marrying Professor Snape is your plan, sir?"

"You may ask, though I am afraid I am not at liberty to discuss that information with you at this time."

"Could your plan change to force me into an underage marriage with Professor Lockhart instead?"

"Have you been suffering memory losses, Miss Granger?"

"No sir."

"Then I fail to see why you are confused. You will be marrying Professor Snape. It says so right here on the wedding invitation in flashing Gryffindor red and Slytherin green complete with dancing wizard-bears wearing exciting socks. I did design the invitations myself!"

"Headmaster, I am a second year."

"True but all would agree that you very mature for your age. I saw no reason to put off this excellent excuse to hold a celebration here at Hogwarts merely because the Ministry has yet to inact some Muggleborn Marriage Law which you would no doubt find enslaving and barbaric. Besides, if you marry Professor Snape tonight, it's worth five points to Gryffindor and even more required Potions essays!"

"Oh! Well sir, I suppose Professor Snape isn't all that bad."

"I knew that I could count on you! As for now, you'd better hurry off- or you might be late for your next class which just happens to be Potions, I believe."

"Yes sir!"

-----

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger. You were nearly fifteen seconds late."

"I can explain, Professor-"

"I am certain that you can, just as I am certain that under threat of Cruciatus I could pretend to consider carefully your excuse before doling out your punishment. However, both those endeavors would waste even more of my time. Detention with me at seven for implying the torture a professor."

"Sir, you may recall that there is a wedding tonight at seven."

"Ah yes. Very well. Make that detention at eight o'clock and fifty more points from Gryffindor for your aggravating scheduling difficulties and inappropriate taste in men."

While they had no idea what Snape was on about, Ron and Harry took his last comment as a good reason to pout.

"Turn to page four hundred fifty one in your texts. Today, you will be brewing the most difficult, deadly, and volatile potion concealed within these pages- Sudden Death Potion. I of course will be giving you no instruction at all, apart from encouraging all Slytherins to distance themselves from Mr. Longbottom. Begin!"

Toward the end of class, Hermione set her perfect sample of Sudden Death Potion on Professor Snape's desk. "May I speak with you for a moment after class, Professor?"

"Miss Granger, while I could not hope a Gryffindor might manage to demonstrate true self-control, I had expected that you could wait until tonight before attempting to make use of me like some cheap Zonko pleasure toy whirring away for your own sensual satisfaction. Class dismissed."

-----

Harry and Ron all but bolted for the door. As they walked very quickly away from the dungeons Ron whispered, "Blimey, Harry, did Snape just say something about sex?"

"I don't think so. He might have said something about sense. I wasn't really paying attention," Harry replied. "Potions is a lot like sleeping with your eyes open, then cooking while you're having a nightmare."

"Yeah? So what's cooking like then?"

"Really messy Transfigurations."

"Ew! Bet she'd be brilliant at that too. Hang on, where is Hermione?"

"Asking Snape something, I think."

"Her funeral."

-----

"Professor Snape, do you really want to marry me?"

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for asking an impertinent question. What are my petty desires to do with the price of a poor decision made when Lucius Malfoy wore even more effeminate clothing and danced the hustle? Professor Dumbledore in his deep lemon-flavored dementia otherwise known as wisdom has consulted his beard and spoken- yes, I was referring to Professor McGonagall. As I am but another poor plighted pawn in this impending fiasco, I suggest you crawl on your chubby knees back to your little friends in the Towers who might give a flying knut about your case of cold feet. You will receive no pity from me."

"I've been thinking about our situation, Professor. Before class, I was a bit worried about the whole arranged marriage aspect. However, I've decided that it's merely a case of true love blooming out of unfortunate and highly unlikely circumstances. You'll have trouble admitting to your feelings of course because you are my Professor, yet will secretly adore the fact that I am the only person other than you who enjoys listening to you speak. I wouldn't be able to sort out my romantic feelings one way or another now because I'm twelve but will always admire your extensive vocabulary, dramatic enunciation, and terrifying delivery. So long as you don't come down with a bad case of laryngitis, my Arithmantic calculations prove that we'll be madly in love by the time that I graduate!"

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for performing Arithmantic equations in Potions class while you should be paying your undivided attention- to me."

"Sorry Professor. Anyway, I think we should both gear our actions and verbal exchanges toward forming a symbiotic relationship. See you at dinner, then at the wedding, then for detention. Have a great day!"

Hermione pivoted smartly to leave. As she did so the great hulking mass of frizz atop her head swept across the surface of Snape's desk sending four vials, all various colored attempts at Sudden Death Potion, on a collision course with the floor.

Thinking quickly, Snape in a grab that would have impressed Draco Malfoy (though not so much Harry Potter) caught in mid air Hermione's sample, which was the only potion there that had turned the correct color. As the three mis-brewed potions mixed, fumes rose and filled the room with shimmering iridescent vapor. Exposed to a thick cloud of it, Snape and Hermione locked eyes in horror before collapsing to the cold stone floor.

Snape's next class of fourth year nose-in-a-book-but-idiots-in-real-life Ravenclaws and rather-agreeably-meek-yet-annoyingly-cheerful Hufflepuffs entered. No one trusted Snape at all or (the swottiest little swot who could) Hermione enough not to be faking apparent unconsciousness in order to catch them out. Thus the whole class sat in perfectly terrified silence. This was obviously a test the Ravenclaws all concluded and informed the Hufflepuffs silently by passing them the parchment, not only to make Hufflepuffs feel even more mentally inferior but so that everyone would know when Ravenclaw was once again proved brilliant. They all knew that Snape would move, of course, but could not agree as to when. That made Snape all the more scary.

Snape's next class were the combined fifth year Slytherins and Gryffindors. All the Gryffindors quickly and bravely whisked Hermione away to the infirmary shouting for no reason at all and waving their wands foolishly. After a lengthy pros versus cons debate, the remaining cunning and ambitious Slytherins decided they did not wish to risk the wrath of their Head by not doing the same for him, but wisely felt compelled to sneak Snape into the infirmary by the back way.

------

Later that afternoon, Hermione opened her eyes.

"You see! I told you she'd pull through!"

"Yes fine, Minerva, so I owe you five galleons. Feel free to deduct that amount from the twenty five you still owe me concerning the identity of his brother's secret romance."

"I still say that bet was unfair, Severus. I was never clear as to which candidate you were suggesting. After all, there's more than one old goat in that family. Hermione, dear, how do you feel?"

"Um, fine. Thank you for asking Professor McGonagall. Professor Snape! You saved me! I'm sure we both would have died had my potion hit the floor!"

"Spare us the grating bravado concerning your potions skills. Your sample was far more a coal-black than the requisite ink-black. Sudden Death? I doubt your potion could have caused more than a sudden headache. However, to be fair to all those Slytherins whose cunning and ambitious potionswork you so callously destroyed, fifty points from Gryffindor and subtract another 5000 points for making me pregnant."

"Pregnant?"

"Yes, pregnant- gestating, heavy with child, expecting, knocked up, in the family way, with a bun-"

"I do know what pregnant means!"

"Ah good. So we won't have to have that little chat on our honeymoon. Miss Granger, as you seem sufficiently recovered, I suggest you go do something with that criminally delinquent mousetrap that you call hair in preparation for making an honest man out of me."

"Severus, she's a witch not a miracle worker!"

Snape smirked. Hermione looked horrified.

"Oh! I meant when it comes to making a Slytherin honest, dear, not you... fixing your... lovely... locks. I'll just see you both later. Filius and I are helping Albus with the wedding decorations." Minerva straightened her hat and clicked her way primly to the exit.

"Socrates was on to something," he whispered to no one.

"Professor Snape, you're pregnant? How?"

"The same way it always happens- carelessness! In this case, your careless mixing of that swill that masquerades as student samples. I theorize the resulting vapor combined our genetic material to magically impregnate me. The growth of the foetus is- somewhat accelerated."

"Accelerated? When do you expect to give birth, Professor?"

"I shall be lucky to make it to midnight- not quite how I imagined I might be spending my wedding night."

"Do you know whether you are having a girl or a boy?"

"So impatient that you can not wait until midnight to find out?"

"Sir, do you even want children?"

"Perhaps you should have thought to ask- before tossing potions off my desk!"

"They caught in my hair!"

"Oh how typical of a Gryffindor, always shirking responsibilities. Nothing is ever your fault."

"Professor, it was an accident!"

"Remind me to tell our child that you said that!"

"I meant about the potions! How was I to know a bunch of dunderheads would collectively make us rich?"

That single word seemed to calm and focus him. "Rich?"

"Would residue of the mixture remain?"

"No. The blasted House-elves would have removed the mess."

"How about the unbroken samples, sir?"

"House-elves would never touch anything on my desk- not after what happened last time."

"Perfect! Get everyone whose samples are missing to brew that potion in the next class. No! Don't waste a class! Give them all detention! You know that they all make the same stupid mistakes over and over, again and again. Re-engineer the results of those detention samples and sell them as a mix-together kit. It will give couples the ability to produce and birth a baby in just one day! Not only will you solve the under-population problem in the Wizarding World, you'll give witches everywhere a way to let their husbands do all the dirty and painful work while keeping their figures! Aside from sales, you'll be a hero, flooded with grant galleons and your pick of where to publish and lecture."

"Miss Granger, you may have made an acceptable Slytherin."

"I should hope so. I'll be an honorary one after our ceremony."

"Hmmph!"

"What are we going to call our baby?"

"Certainly not Albus, nor some strange variation thereof regarding the gender, and no middle names at all."

"Seconded. Not Harry either and nothing from mythology, herbology, or astrology."

"Agreed, and nothing that resembles the name of some new tropical disease."

"Not a name like Severus or Hermione, that will cause the child secretly to resent us forever."

"Nothing forming the initials SS."

"Professor, what if we just call the baby 'Snape?' Just until he or she starts talking. Then the child can pick a first name."

"Suits me."

"And what should I call you?"

"You may call me- Sir."

"Like Peppermint Patty and her submissive lesbian comic strip lover?"

"Precisely, Miss Granger. Now, if you are quite finished lazing about in bed with your fiance, I do have things to do."

"Are you certain that you shouldn't stay here in the infirmary?"

"No, but I can guarantee you that no one will stop me from leaving it."

Snape waved his wand to change his black nightshirt into customary abominable bat wear, which easily hid his pregnancy, or a portable potions lab, a very young elephant, or a complete set of garden furniture depending upon necessity. He threw back the covers from his own bed, then stood and stalked off for parts unknown where students no doubt now celebrated his absence.

Hermione on the other hand felt just a bit lonely now, as usual. She used the facilities, dressed the Muggle way, and went to inform Ron and Harry that they were about to become uncles to a Snape spawn. That would probably take a while to explain, especially since she knew that neither had bothered to open their wedding invitations, now either lost or stuffed into the bottoms of their book bags.

------

More later! Let me know what you think. I do return reviews ; )


	2. Chapter 2

I love you all! Thank you, Sarina Malfoy22, Brianna London, yap yap, Tipry, InSleepHeSangToMe, Padslet, Spaci Ireth, theo, Tarossetti, Madame de la Fleche, and duj (check out duj's page for when you get fed up with my nonsense and want the good stuff.)

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Beauty and the Bat Part deux

Hermione stuck her head through the Portrait Hole into the Common Room.

"Harry, Ronald, I need to speak with you."

"What did you do this time, you arse?" Harry 'whispered' to Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes. Do all males assume a correlation between having breasts and being deaf, dumb in the worst sense, and blind? "He didn't do anything Harry. Neither did you. Talk, NOW!"

They obediently left the chessboard, followed her out, down the steps, through the castle, outside to a spot by the Lake where Hermione erected the strongest silencing, warding, and distraction spells she knew.

"Give over, Hermione, we know when we are in trouble, even if we never know why."

She took a deep breath and said, "As I said Ron, neither of you have done anything wrong. That is exactly how things shall remain."

"Huh?" 'whispered' Harry to Ron.

Ron shrugged and started winding his finger at his temple.

"I'm not mental yet, Ron. I'm not blind. I'm not deaf, either! I'm just letting you both know that today is not the day to play silly buggers."

"Oh!" Ron said, then 'whispered,' "Harry, she's on the rag!"

"Huh?"

Thanks Ron, that could help, Hermione thought. "Very good, Ron. Yes, I'm menstruating. I'm bloated, irritable, crampy-"

"Oh!" said Harry who was blushing furiously and studying the tops of his shoes.

"Ew! Hermione, stop it!" said Ron, who was looking wary and a bit green.

Now, she had her audience! "Today, I accidentally caused a Potions disaster after class."

"Are you all right?" said Harry, who was at least looking at her again.

"I'm fine. Professor Snape was most effected."

"Is he a goner?"

"No Ronald, he's pregnant."

"That can really happen?" Ron asked.

"Snape's gay?" asked Harry.

"He's pregnant with my child, Harry, because of the Potion's accident. Our genetic material merged magically and impregnated him."

"So you're the- the father of Snape's baby?" Ron burst out laughing.

Hermione said, "Tampons and pads, Ronald, lining of the uterus."

Ron stopped laughing abruptly and hung his head low.

"This is our child, you are laughing about, Professor Snape's and MINE. The foetus is experiencing accelerated growth. It's a very dangerous situation for him and for our baby. He expects to go into labor and birth our child tonight if all goes well."

"What are you going to do, Hermione?" asked Harry gently.

"I'm going to marry him tonight. I expect both of you to be the kind of friends I know you both can be. I expect you to support my decision and honor my family as a part of me. Yes, Ronald, that means Snape too."

Harry nodded, smiled, and looked much older than he should.

"Sorry I made fun, Hermione. I know better than that. You know how I can be a right berk," said Ron.

"I know it's an odd situation, Ron. I know you didn't mean to make fun of my child."

"At least agree with him, Hermione. Ronald here really can be a right berk," said Harry grinning.

Ron grinned too and elbowed Harry in the ribs.

Well that wasn't as bad as she'd been expecting. "I don't know what I'd do without either of you berks. Of course, I never know what to do with you, either."

"Certainly can't take us out in public." Ron tossed out. "No wonder we alway end up all alone out here by the lake."

Half an hour before her wedding, Hermione realized that she had nothing at all that was appropriate for a bride to wear, nothing even close. She went to Myrtle's loo so she could at least avoid a curious living audience. At first Hermione thought that by some miracle, Myrtle was elsewhere.

"WHOOOO'S THERE? WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE! Oh, it's just you. What's your name again?"

"Hermione, Myrtle."

"And I always thought that being called Myrtle was terrible. Did you bring any cute boys this time, hmm?" Myrtle bobbed up and down to look over the door of every stall.

"Not this time. You know how boys get when you're trying to figure out what to wear." She lengthened the skirt of her school uniform and changed the color into solid black, since she had no illusions about what Snape would be wearing.

"Not really, no. You never bring cute boys! You just want to keep all the cute boys for yourself!"

"I'll bring Harry and Ron next time."

"Ooooo! I like the name Harry! Heek! Is Harry cute?"

"Yes Myrtle, Harry is very cute." Hermione made her white shirt more feminine looking and lacy but opaque enough so that no one could see her bra through it.

"I don't believe you! Maybe I'd like Ron better! What do you think about that? Is Ron the cute one?"

"They're both very cute. You can take your pick." She decided she couldn't possibly be bothered to transfigure her mary janes and socks since her skirt covered them.

"Two boys? Why do you want to get rid of two boys?"

"I don't want to get rid of anyone. They're both my friends. That's all, though."

Hermione Charmed her hair up.

"So you don't even have a boyfriend?"

Her hair didn't quite turn out as she had hoped. She now wore two huge doughnuts over her ears reminiscent of Princess Leia. She'd have to put some work into perfecting that spell. She still figured Snape might view the doughnuts as an improvement over having it down. "No. I don't."

"Is that why you're getting all dressed up? So you can go catch one?"

"No, I'm getting married tonight."

"So you lied to me then! Liar! Pants on fire! Poke your eyes with chicken wire! I don't like girls who tell big, fat lies."

"I'm getting married to Professor Snape."

"Oh Gods! That's awful! Why?" Myrtle suddenly got a lot less screechy and flew down to perch on the sink next to her.

"Because we're having a baby together."

"Wow. What a drag. At least your belly's not big yet."

"No, not yet. Would you like to come to my wedding Myrtle? It's in the Room of Requirement."

"No. Too much magic in there for me. It makes my ectoplasm crawl." Myrtle seemed to shiver and fade out a bit for a second. "Will you really bring some boys I can meet, though?"

"Sure. I'll do that."

"You're not just saying that?"

"I'll try to bring them next time I come."

"Swell!" Myrtle launched herself off the sink and started flying around the lavatory again. "Oh and hey, good luck with, you know." Myrtle held her hands out in front of her own stomach.

"Thanks, Myrtle."

"Helmeenie?"

"Hermione."

Hermione, one mistake doesn't have to mean that your life's over, you know. Unless it kills you! Ooo! If you die in childbirth we could be roomies!"

"Sounds like fun, Myrtle. See you soon."

"Bring boys next time!"

"Will do."

"They had better be cute too or you'll be sorry!

She felt odd walking alone to her own wedding, like she was physically walking into a new chapter of her life. She decided that she rather liked the feeling.

The hall near the Room of Requirement, which was indicated by a small map on her invitation, was packed. She could just make out the Headmaster's head over and through the crowd. "Is Miss Granger here?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'm here, Headmaster."

The crowd parted and a sea of dumbstruck young faces stared as she made her way though.

"Nervous, Miss Granger?"

Was she? Not nearly as worked up as she got just before a test. "A bit, sir."

"That is to be expected."

"Sir, are my parents already inside?"

"Oh Miss Granger, I am so terribly sorry! I knew that I was forgetting someone. It seems I should have sent out one more invitation."

"It's all right, sir. It's probably for the best. This way, I can break it to them after the fact."

"I believe that it is traditional to have a parent walk the bride down the aisle in a Muggleborn ceremony?"

"Well, yes, usually it is."

"I would be honored to escort you? If you think I would do in a pinch?"

Hermione felt very calm and certain of herself suddenly. "Thank you for the offer Headmaster, but being given away would feel too much like being a piece of property. I'd rather be alone when I join Professor Snape."

Dumbledore twinkled at her. "I believe that decision demonstrates a great deal of good sense and personal fortitude, Miss Granger." He waved his hand. The door opened.

The Room of Requirement was the most horrible place to get married that she could ever have imagined even in the worst of her nightmares. It was hard to look at anything without trying to blink out the sheer garishness. The decor reminded her of every interior she had ever seen in a photo of Graceland, all mixed together. Every surface was decked with every color and kind of plastic flower, intermingled with multi-colored paper streamers, paper fold out wedding bells, valentine hearts, even some Muggle Halloween decorations, and Christmas lights, all surrounding something that looked like a huge Jesus shaped blow up doll mounted to a cross in the middle where Snape now stood thoroughly amused, looking for all the world like he was the only other person in the room who got this joke. They shared a look.

She started to walk toward him. Suddenly an invisible organ started honking out a butchered version of the Wedding March, yet another honk with every step she took. It was like walking on an invisible whoopie cushion. That was when she started to laugh. Then she heard McGonagall's unmistakable "Oh dear!" The professor rushed to her from the front pew. "I believe these are traditional for the bride to hold ?" McGonagall handed her a bouquet of blue daisies, pink gladiolas, and big orange sunflowers, all made from geniune plastic.

"Oh. Thank you."

Five more honking steps brought her even with Snape who held out his hand. She took it.

Dumbledore droned on for a while. For once in her life Hermione paid no attention at all to the lecturing Professor. She had the oddest feeling that she and Snape were the only two real persons in the room, to have and to hold, till death us do part. Everyone and everything else seemed as ephemeral and fleeting as a dream and as artificial as the landscape and the bouquet she now held. At one point in the ceremony Snape placed a glass down and stomped it to bits.

"You're Jewish?"

"I am an Atheist. I do enjoy symbolism."

"Me too. Both counts." She didn't quite know how to feel about what the glass had symbolized.

At last, Albus told Snape he may kiss his bride. That was when Snape got a very strange look on his face, dropped her hand, bowed slightly to her and said, "Excuse me."

That definitely wasn't traditional. She hoped it wasn't symbolic either.

Part of the petro-chemical jungle disappeared and a lavatory door replaced it. Snape disappeared behind that door. Hermione looked around and realized every single pair of eyes was riveted to a lavatory door during her wedding ceremony. She shifted from one foot to the other. She tried to catch Ron's or Harry's eyes to no avail. Then came the muffled sound of a toilet flushing followed a few seconds later, by the sound of running water. The water ran and ran, and ran some more, and ran for a longer time.

A very long time.

When Snape finally emerged, he was in trousers and shirtsleeves, holding a bundle wrapped in his dress robes. He rejoined her at the alter. The babe in his arms was without exception the ugliest that Hermione, and, she assumed, anyone else in the room had ever laid eyes on. His head was disproportionately huge compared to the long, thin, shriveled rest of him. He had Snape's nose jutting out awkwardly from his scrunched up face. Patternless bald patches were interspersed with longish tufts of black hair that somehow managed to seem both greasy and tremendously frizzy at the very same time. He had her own square inelegant hands and chubby short fingers. He wore what could only be called a naturally misanthropic scowl.

"We have a daughter," Snape announced softly.

A good thirty seconds of complete silence reigned. Hermione looked up from the baby to Snape. Neither Snape nor Hermione could quite manage to appear anything but glazed and a bit traumatized.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked.

Snape snorted a snort which clearly meant, 'Are you out of you mind or why ask such an idiotic question?'

"Okay," Hermione stated to no one in particular,"we are all done here." She handed her bouquet to Dumbledore.

"Would you like to hold her before a house-elf appears to whisk her away?"

Hermione couldn't think of a good enough excuse not to, so she held her arms out. Snape passed the baby slowly and carefully, making certain that her ginormous head was properly supported throughout the process.

Hmm, so you are a girl, then? Hermione stood there trying to calculate the odds of a kid getting all the worst physical features from both parents. Hermione had never been so happy to see an enslaved house-elf in her entire life. Then Snape took Hermione by the hand and lead her out of the room and down to the dungeons. When they entered the dungeons and were out of the earshot of any castle portrait Snape broke the silence. "Our daughter is hideous."

Hermione smiled, feeling more than a little relieved they shared this opinion. "I think they all are that way at first."

"No, they are not. Some newborn babies are beautiful. But you are correct, even the most hideous ones generally do improve. I am afraid that I was a notable exception to that rule."

"Never too late to start."

"Five points to Gryffindor."

"To Gryffindor? For what? Insulting a professor?"

"For being brave and foolish enough to marry me." He gave her hand what he gauged to be a comforting squeeze.

"Ouch!"

"My apologies."

"It's fine." Hermione said shaking out her hand. "It wasn't just for you, you know. I was promised more Potions essays, too."

"Think of what you could have had with Lockhart."

"Dumbledore told you about that?!"

"If it is any consolation, a twelve year old would not have been my first choice, either."

"I'd say that speaks well of you."

They were now standing in front of Snape's door, or so she assumed. He turned to her then and stared down at her gravely. Did he not want her to overhear his password? She was just about to take a stroll down the corridor when he finally spoke. "Miss Granger, I will not hold you to this travesty of a marriage. I insisted on a traditional Muggle marriage, or such as three mad Pureblood professors could hope to provide, so that we may follow it up with the traditional Muggle divorce. Dumbledore is a manipulative old whoopsy." The door swung open.

"That was your password!?"

"Best to choose something that is difficult to forget."

Once his door was shut, the difference in Snape was astounding. The man seemed to wilt. He limped his last few steps to the bed and lowered himself gingerly onto it in a prone position. Hermione had the feeling that to do anything other than to ignore his sorry state only would make things worse for him. Instead, she twisted her ring around again and again. Ring? When had that happened? She looked at it. Plain, silver, thin, and cheap. She loved it. Then the ring helpfully reminded her of something important. "But Dumbledore performed our ceremony! Wouldn't that make it a Wizarding marriage?"

"He was also ordained by a Muggle church, Unitarian Universalism. Apparently they take anyone. You are a minor. In case you were wondering, your parents were not informed by Dumbledore accidentally on purpose so they could not object. But since they were absent they could not give consent even if they were completely out of their minds and willing to do so."

"Under Wizarding Law, either marriage or parenthood conveys to me my majority."

He actually spent the effort to raise up onto his elbows to contradict this part of her argument.

"Only if you claim it, which you are in no way obligated to do. Such a move would be foolish in the extreme and completely contrary to your interests." He was down again.

"My interests currently include my husband and newborn daughter."

"Miss Granger-"

"It's Hermione, Severus." She sat down carefully on the bed next to him and rested her hand gently on his shoulder.

"Hermione, ours is a child of prophesy."

"Prophesy? Like the twisted predictions that nutjob Trelawney spouts?"

"Trelawney was the source."

Now it was Hermione's turn to snort.

"Despite that fact, this was a legitimate prophesy. Our daughter, her very existence is proof enough of that."

"She's the reason for our marriage! Dumbledore knew that Potions accident was going to happen! You knew?"

"I did not know it would be a Potions accident. I didn't know that anything at all would happen. Like you, I disbelieve every word she speaks. Quite sensible of us both as her average is once correct for every decade of incoherent babbling."

"You mean she's been right before?"

"May we discuss this tomorrow? Please? Without getting too graphic, I just gave birth to something the size of a Quidditch bat through an orifice that never expected to serve that purpose."

"Of course we can. Shouldn't you be in the infirmary?"

"I only require rest."

"Can I do anything?"

"Yes, that is the hall that leads to a door. That door opens upon your bedroom. Use it."

"Do you require a potion?"

"For the love of the Light, go away!"

"Goodnight, Severus."

"Sir."

"Thanks, but I 'm not Peppermint Patty. Hermione works just fine for me."

---More is coming! If you have a particular character cliche or overused plot device you absolutely need to see in this story, let me know! I'll see if I can work it in somehow! All comments welcome as always. I do return reviews (though I haven't yet for this story since I've been spending what time I have on this chapter) but will do so now!


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to my reveiwers Nytd, amsev, duj, ElizaHPFAN and Nagi Rai! Thanks for all your great ideas and suggestions. I hope to answer your questions in this and other upcoming chapters (mean of me , I know.)

This is meant as an overdose of overdone HGSS cliches in nutty little nutshell of a parody, and is AU obviously. In order to enjoy this, you'll just have to pretend that Hermione rescued Crookshanks from that pet store a year earlier than she did in canon. It is widely known that Crooks was there for a long time, after all.

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Beauty and the Bat- part three point oh 

Hermione's new room was much like her old room in Gryffindor, except that there was only one bed in Gryffindor colors and a door that led to her own shower, sink, and toilet. She opened the closet. All her clothes were there. Her desk was neatly organized just how she liked it. She thought once again about those poor house-elves, now looking after her crying, crapping infant while she was about to get a good night's sleep. The enslavement of house-elves was just plain wrong. She was going to do something about that too, right after 'Snape' was potty-trained.

At the foot of her bed was a small pile of gifts. She decided to read some of the cards.

The first was from Lavender Brown and was mainly filled with inappropriate questions, including how well her husband was endowed. Hermione stuffed the card under the ribbon and pushed that gift aside. If still in the mood tomorrow, she'd ask Snape to respond to that gift. The next, she was pleased to see was from Ginny.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Congratulations on your wedding and the birth of your first child. Everyone in Gryffindor is a bit floored except for Harry and Ron. They're not talking about it, but did jump all over Dean and Seamus for making some stupid joke. I'm worried because I'm concerned about your happiness. Honestly, I always hoped you'd marry Ron and be my real sister some day. That's probably partly because of my crush on Harry too. Your brain would be hard to compete with if you'd set your sites on him. In that way, I think Snape sort of makes sense for you. He is, as far as I can figure, the smartest teacher here._

_About my gift, I know it's not much. My dad got it for me with my school things. He was a bit funny about me leaving for school, being the last one and only girl and all. Really, it's about all I had to give you. I can't figure it out. It very well might be broken. If anyone can solve or fix it, I reckon that would be you. Anyway, I thought it might be a fun puzzle to take your mind off things when you need some distraction. If you need to talk, I'm no expert with babies but know a thing or two about boys being raised with so many of them. At any rate, I'm always willing to listen._

_Love, Ginny_

Hermione smiled and unwrapped a book wrapped neatly in a page of the daily Prophet. It looked to be a used leather journal complete with a name she did not recognize, but upon inspection all the pages were blank. Hermione wondered what the big mystery was, but couldn't be bothered to look into that tonight. She tossed Ginny's journal to one side and picked up the next card from Parvati Patil.

Hermione woke the next morning early, showered, dressed and went to check on Snape. He was still in the same position she had left him in last night. As quiet as she was, he stirred when she neared the bed. His face wasn't improved with the imprint of his pillow all down one side.

"Miss Granger? So. Yesterday was not just a nightmare."

"I'm afraid not. Are you feeling any better?"

"I will live."

"It's Friday. Why don't you cancel classes and get some more rest?"

"Certainly not! Why should I give my students a long weekend? Spite alone will get me through classes today."

"Severus, you've just had a baby."

"I've had worse!"

"I'm sorry to hear that. Shall we have breakfast here?"

"No. Go to the Great Hall. I do not partake of breakfast, nor do I care to smell it."

"You should eat something. Breakfast is the more important meal of the day."

"Merlin, I've married Poppy Pomfrey."

"Hardly, she'd be better able to care for you."

"I am perfectly capable of tending to myself."

"All right, why not do that, then? You can start by cancelling your classes today and resting."

"Must I point out the absurdity of a twelve year old girl attempting to dictate the actions of man twenty years her senior?"

"You're only thirty two! Oh, I didn't mean-"

"Just how ancient did you suspect me of being?"

"Well, I hadn't given it much thought. I know that wizards generally appear younger than Muggles of the same age. I guess I figured that you were about my parents age."

"And they are how old?"

"Early fifties."

"Many wizards use Glamours, case in point, your handsome Professor Lockhart."

"Would you give Lockhart a rest? Anyone would think you were jealous of the man."

"Why should a hated, homely Potion's Master who looks fifty at thirty not be jealous?"

"Well, Lockhart is a bit of an idiot."

"I wouldn't have thought you would notice such beyond his shimmering exterior."

"Are you implying that I'm shallow?"

"Ah, it is Lockhart's sterling personality which makes him so irresistable?"

"You are a fine one to criticize another's personality, his or mine! As you are fit enough to argue and since I can't persuade you to do anything sensible, I'm going to breakfast!"

Stomping her way to the Great Hall, she collided with none other than Draco Malfoy coming around a corner.

"Watch it, Mudblood."

"What did you just call me?"

"You heard, " he sneered. He smelled like the kind of expensive grooming products a family of sensible dentists didn't buy even if they could have afforded them, which Hermione somehow doubted. That even a Slytherin would use such a foul term shocked her to the core. She was proud of herself when she recovered quickly enough to counter with, "Fine. I'll be certain to inform my husband about your opinion of his family, then." Hermione held her head high and continued on toward the Great Hall.

"Wait!"

"What now, Malfoy?"

"I was out of line. I apologize for what I said."

It was all Hermione could do not to gape at him. "Accepted. Don't call people that. It's ugly and thoroughly beneath you."

Draco seemed to consider this, then nodded slightly.

"Let's just forget it happened."

"Thanks, Granger."

"No trouble." She turned to leave again when Draco called her back.

"What is it? Are you trying to starve me to death now?"

"There's a Slytherin study group. We meet Sunday evening's at seven if you are interested. You'd be an asset."

"Where?"

"The Slytherin Common Room. You'll have to knock."

"Will you let me in if I do knock?"

Draco actually smiled. "Never know unless you try, Granger."

"I'll see how my schedule goes. Thanks for the invitation."

"See you in class."

Hermione realized that was the longest and most civilized conversation she'd ever had with Malfoy, even though he had called her the M-word. Life just got curiouser and curiouser.

When Hermione entered the Great Hall, all conversation died. Then the whispering started. Most of the Gryffindors hadn't wandered down yet. Hermione parked herself in her usual spot next to Harry who looked like he hadn't slept at all.

"Just ignore them, Hermione."

"I intend to. I heard about how you and Ron ignored Dean and Seamus for me. Thanks."

"Blimey, does Snape know everything, too?"

"Ginny told me."

"Oh. Are you okay, you know, with Snape?"

"He's not an ogre, Harry."

"I mean- I'm sorry Hermione, I just, I can't imagine-"

"Don't. What ever you stayed up all night imagining is a whole lot worse than the reality."

"He doesn't, he hasn't? You know."

"He treats me like a second year with whom he is unfortunate enough to have to share rooms."

"Well that's decent of him, I guess. Is he all right?"

"That's a huge question that I am in no way qualified to answer."

"How's the baby?"

She really didn't feel like informing Harry that she hadn't seen any more of her daughter than Harry had. "She's fine."

Just then the morning owls arrived. She picked up her copy of the Daily Prophet and glanced at the front page. She really had to hand it to Dumbledore.

_Ministry Announces Muggleborn Marriage Act_

_By Artemus Brandice_

_Last evening a spokesperson for the Department of Muggleborn Affairs announced a new plan to better incorporate the Muggleborn population and promote new Wizarding families. From this day hence, all single Muggleborn over the age of majority or Muggleborn married in accordance with Muggle ceremonies must, within one month's time, marry or remarry according to the traditions and dictates of Wizarding Marriage Law, or submit their wands and leave the Wizarding World forever._

_When asked whether this new law is a hardship on single Muggleborn who have no immediate marriage prospects, Minister Fudge replied, "Nonsense, since all single Muggleborn are faced with the same requirements, they shouldn't have any problem marrying one another."_

_Coincidentally, prominent Muggleborn and friend to the Boy-Who-Lived, Hermione Granger was married in a Muggle ceremony due to an unexpected pregnancy only last night to Professor Severus Snape, suspected Death Eater and Master of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the new Mrs. Snape is currently a second year student. So far the Prophet has been unable to contact Mrs. Snape for comment._

The article went on with more reactions and more supposed benefits to the Wizarding World. All of it meant that she was getting married again to Snape. Wizarding marriages really were parted only by death. Snape wasn't going to like this. He might not care to marry her again. What would she do then? She was quite certain this law would still effect her even if she didn't claim her majority.

"I'm writing them a nasty letter. Gah! I can't believe they didn't even mention that you weren't the one pregnant!"

"That's not the part that matters, Harry."

"Of course it matters! It makes you sound like- and what about Snape? They make him out to be some kind of- molester."

"That's what you thought he was only a minute ago."

"Well, now I know better. And what's all that suspected Death Eater stuff?"

"I don't know. I think I'd better go talk to him. See you later."

----

When she returned, he was showered, dressed, drinking tea and reading the Daily Prophet. When he glanced up from the article he said, "Perhaps you will not be effected by this."

"Of course I am. How many underaged Muggleborns get married? Besides, I doubt anyone who would pass a law like that gave it enough thought to make any exceptions."

"In that, I suspect you are correct. I take it that you do not wish to leave the Wizarding World?"

"Will you marry me? Even without the possibility of a divorce?"

"You might consider finding another-"

"Severus, I don't want to be married to anyone else."

"Oh, very well. It is not as though I am swamped with other prospects. However, you will call me 'sir' in class."

"Drat, I just knew you wouldn't prefer Love Bunny. Harry's angry the reporter didn't mention the Potions accident. He wants to write the Prophet a complaint letter. He's also upset they are calling you a suspected Death Eater."

"I am one."

"Suspected?"

"Former."

"Former?"

"I changed sides during the war and spied for Dumbledore. It is a matter of public record."

"I've read that his followers wore a mark."

Snape unbuttoned his cuff and bared his arm.

"That looks like it hurt."

"It did. Sometimes it still does. He is returning, Hermione. It won't be long. A year or two, perhaps three. The odds are that he will kill me when he does return. A continuing marriage would put you in danger also. You should consider these facts before deciding not to find another Muggleborn to marry."

"It doesn't matter. No one can get a Muggle divorce in a month."

"Wizards can."

"Severus, when he returns I'll be in danger anyway."

"It must bother you that your current husband was once a Death Eater."

"People make mistakes. I'm proud you changed sides and spied for Dumbledore. I got some good advice recently: One mistake doesn't mean your life's over. Unless it kills you."

"My mistake might very well resurrect itself to kill me."

"But it hasn't yet. That's the point. So, can we get married again?"

"If you certain that you wish it, open your mouth."

When she did, he stuck his finger in then withdrew it and wiped it on his handkerchief.

"Was there a point to that?"

"Yes. Now your body has been penetrated by me. I must achieve orgasm, which I will provide for myself later in private. We must sleep in the same bed tonight also. Dumbledore can pronounce us married and file the appropriate paperwork with the Ministry. After that, we have met the bare-bones magical requirements for a Wizarding marriage, unless you would prefer another public ceremony?"

"Absolutely not. Thank you, Severus."

"Ten points from Gryffindor."

"For what?!"

"If we leave now, you will be late for Charms, while I shall be right on time to teach Potions to morons."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Snape opened it. There stood a troubled looking Dumbledore, a confused Potter who held a large unattractive orange cat, and a hysterical Ronald Weasley.

"May we help you?" asked Snape sounding especially bored.

"Crookshanks killed Scabbers!" Snape had no idea what the red-headed idiot was babbling about but resented the fact that he had the nerve to enter without being asked.

Hermione then launched herself to hug upon Weasley. "Oh Ron, I'm so sorry! I- I forgot all about Crooks! Oh Merlin, I didn't even feed him last night!"

Ron pulled away, eying Snape's expression warily. "No, no, it's okay, Hermione. Don't cry. It wasn't Scabbers, well, not really. It was just some fat bloke. Blimey, I used to let him sleep with me when it got cold!" Weasley turned bright red and started trembling violently.

Dumbledore entered, also without being asked, and wrapped a grandfatherly arm around Weasley. Snape rolled his eyes. "You and that Kneazle may as well come in too, Potter."

"Um, thank you, sir." Harry kept hold of Crookshanks and seemed to try hard to blend into the nearest wall. Considering all the emoting and extraneous shows of affection, Snape couldn't quite blame him.

"That means Crookshanks murdered an Animagus! Who was he, Headmaster?" whispered Hermione, wiping the tears flowing over her cheeks with her sleeve. Snape touched her shoulder handing her his handkerchief, leaving his hand to linger there after she took it.

Then Dumbledore spoke. "Some would say that a sort of justice has been served, Mrs. Snape. Perhaps you remember Peter Pettigrew, Severus?"

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-More later! Thanks for reading this! All comments are appreciated. I do return reviews. 


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to Spaci Ireth, duj, Nytd, tehfanglyfish, Elisa (no one has ever compared me to Shakespeare before, nor is it likely to happen again. I appreciate your particular form of madness as well,) exploding-pool, Eden Snape, Lady Tourniquet, Miss Blanche Duboise, and HavokIsLord0120- each one of you made me want to write more of this story and not disappoint.

An overdose of overdone HGSS cliches in nutty little nutshell of a parody that may make you smile!

Beauty and the Bat - 4 Part Harmony

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Hermione watched in utter fascination as Snape's temper accellerated from mild surprise to absolute fury in 1.5 seconds.

Snape spun violently to face Dumbledore and stepped abruptly into his personal space. "Tell me that you are not entertaining some mutton-headed notion to once again inflict the Black Plague upon an unsuspecting populace."

"Now Severus, it seems only fair and just to do what little we can for the man, given the fact that his supposed murder victim has been living the past ten years as the Weasley's pet rat."

"Even had Black not been a murderous raving lunatic long before he got himself carted off to Azkaban, which you and I both know very well that he was- a solid decade spent on holiday in the company of Dementors has not improved him, Albus."

"I fear in that you may be correct. Still, I do not see that we have other choices in the matter."

"Of course we have other choices. I choose transfiguring Pettigrew's corpse back into a rat and letting my wife's brilliant Kneazle enjoy the rest of his breakfast."

"Oh Severus, you really must try to get over that silly schoolboy prank."

"Prrrrrrr-ank?!" The man could really roll an R, which might have been more appealing, Hermione thought, if not for all his accompanied spitting.

"I have decided to petition the Wizengot for Black's immediate release into the temporary custody of Remus Lupin."

"Loopy Moony Lupin? Just what makes you think that Lupin can look after anything at all successfully, including Lupin? If you merely wish to maximize the irresponsibility quotion in this equation, why not put Potter, here, in charge of the both of them?"

"I agree that Harry's influence can only be beneficial, which is why I am inviting both of them to stay here at Hogwarts while Sirius adjusts to his new-found freedom!"

"Oh by all means, let's do expose an entire school full of defenseless, innocent children to a sociopathic ex-convict and his moonstruck pet werewolf. Why headmaster, what a very inventive solution to the problem of students straggling in corridors. Were classes seeming a just bit too overcrowded this year?"

"Werewolf?" Hermione and Harry questioned both thinking that surely they had misheard somehow. Crookshanks jumped down from Harry's arms and began cleaning his ruder parts under the glass table.

"Mmm, Mrs. Snape, your wedding band is sterling silver. Then he turned to Dumbledore again and shouted, "As is mine!"

"You're not even wearing a ring," Hermione pointed out rather reasonably.

"But I will be. Potter, in case the Headmaster conveniently forgets to inform you, the criminally insane Sirius Black is your esteemed godfather. There seems to be some question now as to whether he betrayed your family, thereby orphaning you by proxy. I'd suggest that you approach Black's excuses with a healthy amount of suspicion, considering that were I in his position, I'd blame Peter Pettigrew for that incident, too."

"Huh?" said Harry.

Snape looked at Harry is if truly seeing him for the first time ever. He waved a hand in front of Harry's face. "Is there just never a convenient moment to try out your higher reasoning? But how could I forget? That would be my wife's department."

Hermione couldn't decide whether to frown at him or not, since that was as close as he had ever come to complimenting her.

"Werewolf?" asked Ron in a reedy voice as though terror had not yet allowed his brain to catch up to the conversation.

"Hold on. I have a godfather? Just why didn't anyone tell me about him before now?" Harry wasn't looking at anyone though. No, he was glaring straight at Dumbledore.

"Oh my dear boy! Perhaps I should have told you. It seems that I have become too fond of you, Harry. Certainly I did not wish to add to your profound grief by informing you that your godfather's betrayal led to your parent's deaths."

Snape rolled his eyes. Hermoine found that she had to agree with Snape.

"Betrayal?"

"That is what was thought. You see, your parents went into hiding from Voldemort under a Fidelus Charm. Black, as their Secret Keeper was the only person who knew of their whereabouts. It was naturally assumed that he betrayed your parents especially since he then murdered your parent's friend Peter Pettigrew. Since Pettigrew has been in hiding these past ten years, clearly, Sirius Black is entirely innocent of that betrayal."

"Headmaster, you cannot logically reach that conclusion based upon the given evidence," said Hermione.

"Thank you!" said Snape.

"Who is-" Harry pointed to Snape. "What he said- Loopy!?"

"Lu-pin, Harry. Remus Lupin was another dear friend of your parents. It is true that he is also a Dark creature, bitten and turned when he was but a small, helpless child. You are no doubt aware that the public fear and misunderstanding concerning the nature of the Werewolf-"

"Werewolf?" Everyone briefly glanced at Ron again.

"-allows the Ministry to pass all manner of inhumane legislations against them. Your father and Sirius Black knew of his terrible affliction. I was very proud that they helped to keep his secret for him while they were all here at Hogwarts together."

"Except when he and Black were using the werewolf to attempt cold-blooded murder."

"Oh Severus, really!"

"What did they do?" Hermione asked Snape.

"Miss Granger-"

"-was wed yesterday, to me if I remember correctly," said Snape.

"Mrs. Snape, this really isn't the time-" started Dumbledore again, glancing at Harry.

"No! I. Want. To. Know," said !Harry.

"If you tell him, Severus, you owe it to Harry to tell the whole story."

Severus seemed to consider that. "Perhaps, but for now, I have a class to teach."

"I took the liberty of asking Mr. Filch to escort your class to the library and to inform them that they would be spending their time there writing an essay on Dragonsblood, its properties and uses. Perhaps we should all sit down?"

Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore sat. Snape just stood there, looking deep in thought, lost in the past. Hermione took his hand and led him over to the opposite loveseat.

Harry had expected to hear things from Snape about his parents that he didn't want to hear. He never expected to hear that Snape had been in love with Harry's mother, who didn't seem to care enough about Snape to be even a decent friend to him.

He never expected Snape to admit how desperately he had wanted to be accepted by anyone but was continually shut out of all possible social circles by wealthy Purebloods like Lucius Malfoy in his own house and Purebloods like his own father and Sirius Black in the other houses. He felt the double standard, hearing how his father time and again had escaped punishment because he was a favorite son of Gryffindor while the Marauders easily pinned many of their own 'pranks' on Snape, because he was friendless and a Slytherin.

He felt Snape's betrayal when finally Sirius approached him with the chance to join their exclusive 'Marauder's Club' only to find a terrible death at best or a life cursed as a werewolf waiting for him at the end of a tunnel. He felt Snape's shame at having been tricked once again by Black, even for hoping that someone who had treated him so horribly might want to be his friend.

He listened as Snape related the details of the Wizard's Debt he owed to Harry's father after. How his father had given Snape the option of brewing and drinking an irreversible castration potion or giving his mother credit for what, at that time, amounted to his life's work. Snape's many improvements on common potions were what Snape had been counting on to secure him a comfortable future once he left Hogwarts.

Hearing it all might have been far more difficult if Snape had not told the story directly to Hermione. It was a conversation only the two of them were having. She asked questions. He quietly answered, still holding her hand absently. It was almost like watching a movie, in a way, or a play. This was brilliant, Harry thought. Next time Dumbledore gets out his mental teaspoon to offer up a little drizzle of information that he should have received at the beginning of first year, he was going to make certain that Hermione and Snape were there too.

"-prophesy," said Snape.

"Um, can you repeat that bit. My mind sort of drifted."

"Harry!" scolded Hermione.

"What is the point of my telling you all this if you do not deign to listen?"

"No, I did deign! I mean, I was listening. I just- well, I got a bit lost in thought is all. So what was that about prophesy?"

"I said, I overheard the first part the prophesy and reported it to the Dark Lord."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because, as I told you, I joined the Death Eaters."

"Why would you join them?"

"As previously stated, joining seemed preferable to my other major opportunity upon leaving school, which involved starving to death on the streets."

"But you're not one now, right?"

Snape clenched his jaw and simply stared at Harry.

"Okay. I get it. Good. Former Death Eater."

While Snape was still glaring at him, Hermione mouthed, "I'll tell you the rest later."

"Are you listening now, Mr. Potter? Would you care to hear the prophesy which continues to effect your future?"

"My future? Um, yeah, okay then." But if it had anything to do with divination it couldn't be all that important. Right?

Just then there was a knock at the door.

Snape huffed out a breath of frustration then stood and opened the door. "Minerva. To what do I owe the intrusion?"

She elbowed past him and stood in front of Hermione ignoring everyone else in the room. "Miss Gr- Mrs. Snape, you simply can not let -that man- name your daughter Snape Snape!"

"She's not called Snape Snape. Her name is simply 'Snape.' We've decided to call her by her last name until she's old enough to pick her own first name."

"What? But you can't! It's simply not done! Are you trying to raise the next Dark Lady?"

"Wouldn't we have to name her 'Snape' Wayne Snape to do that?"

"Snape Wayne Snape?"

Harry chuckled. "Um, she's kidding. It's a Muggle thing, Professor."

"Oh, like Marvolo," said Ron. Marvolo? That sounded familiar, like she had recently heard or read it, but Hermione couldn't quite place where.

"Marvolo? What about Marvolo?" asked McGonagall.

"You know, it's the old joke. If you want to make sure your kid goes bad, you're supposed to give him the name Marvolo," said Ron who finally seemed recovered from the werewolf shock.

"Nonsense. Professor Snape's middle name is Marvolo," said McGonagall.

"Your middle name is Marvolo?" asked Hermione.

"Yes. What of it? It's not an uncommon name."

"Well, it's not if you're Grindelwald, or Lucius Marvolo Malfoy, or Sirius Marvolo- oh, I mean, well never mind that, or that nutter who went to Azkaban for cutting up all those Muggle women in London about a hundred years ago," said Ron.

"You mean Jack the Ripper?" asked Harry. Hermione looked questioningly at Snape who nodded. She wondered how she hadn't managed to read that Jack the Ripper was a wizard.

"Nah, the bloke's name definitely wasn't Jack. It was Marvolo-something else than Jack-something," Ron told Harry confidently.

"Well then, it could be worse. We could have named our daughter Marvolo Wayne Snape. You see, nothing to worry about, Professor."

"How about something sensible like Albusinia? Or Harriet? Don't you think that's nicer for a little girl than 'Snape?' How about Severia?"

Snape's expression caught her eye. If anything sounded like a pandemic about to emerge, it was Severia. Hermione somehow managed not to laugh. "No, Professor, we have agreed. Her name is 'Snape' until she picks her own name."

"Albus, will you talk sense to these young people? And why aren't any of them in class?"

"Minerva, Peter Pettigrew is dead."

"Yes, he is. I remember the funeral. Are you unwell, Albus?"

"No, I am feeling quite well, thank you! I meant that Peter Pettigrew has just died, this morning in fact."

"Hermione's cat got him," said Ron pointing under the glass table.

"Mister Potter, has there been another Potions accident in here?" Harry shrugged. After all, it wasn't inconceivable that something like that had happened and caused no one to remember it.

As Dumbledore started explaining the morning's events to McGonagall, there came yet another knock on the door. Snape briefly considered the option of placing a jinx on the hallway.

"Ah Mister Filch. Why are you here and not monitoring my class?"

"Madame Pince said she'd watch the little hoodlums, sir."

"Then please do come in. Have a seat. Everyone else has." Filch looked in loathe with the prospect of crossing the threshold, instead he took a step back.

"Beggin' yer pardon sir, but Mrs. Norris thought Dumbledore might be here. There's some aurors lookin' for him. I sent 'em off to wait outside his office. Warned 'em not to touch nothin', told 'em the story about that one auror who lost a finger poking around in there." It seemed like Filch disliked aurors nearly as much as children.

"How lucky that he found it again," said Dumbledore.

"Didn't get to that part."

"Boys, I'm sure I don't have to remind you that what was said shall remain in this room. Come along Minerva, I'll explain about Pettigrew on the way. Children, you're excused from classes for the day providing you have other things you'd prefer to do!" Harry and Ron high-fived. Hermione sniffed at them both, picked up her book bag and headed to class, out the door right behind Dumbledore and McGonagall. Snape glared until Ron and Harry quickly followed. Once everyone was gone, Snape realized he still had nearly half an hour all to himself before he had to leave for his next class.

"House-elf!"

"What may Blanky do for Professor Snape?"

Snape took a deep breath then leaned forward in his chair and stated very clearly, "I require a bowl of fish."

The elf was truly confused, but no more so than when Professor Snape asked him for most things.

Why did no one else in the castle seem to have this problem with them? "Blanky, I require a bowl having dimensions of about so. The bowl should contain the meat of fish. The type of fish and the amount must be suitable to the dietary needs of my wife's familiar." Snape pointed under the glass table.

The house-elf returned with a bowl of catfood and handed it to Snape. Snape set the bowl down on the floor under the glass table. Crookshanks attacked it as if it were an odious fat man who had changed himself into a rat.

"You have done well, Blanky."

When Crookshanks had eaten the second course of his two-course breakfast and had thoroughly washed his whiskers, he leapt boldly onto Snape's lap. At the sound of a low throaty purr, Snape couldn't quite keep his fingers from stroking over the furry beast. Crookshanks rolled, enjoying the combination of warm wool against his back fur and kind fingers smoothing the fur on his belly.

"I take it that your mistress is somewhat fond of you. I advise you never to abuse her trust nor your position here in this household. Today you have earned my goodwill. While I doubt you shall ever again be so fortunate in your results, I am a man who appreciates effort. Tell me, just how do you feel about jailbirds and were-prats, hmm?" The reply, a long gaping yawn of flashing fangs coupled with the flex in the air of truly impressive claws, seemed to suggest that they had reached a consensus of opinion.

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-thanks again for reading. All comments, corrections, suggestions, even flames are welcome. I return the favor of a review. 


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